


The man who lived again

by Katheted



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gore, M/M, Romance, Tragedy, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 19:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13665402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katheted/pseuds/Katheted
Summary: Waking up in an alley in a pool of blood is never fun, especially when it's already cold. What would you do with your one last chance?





	The man who lived again

Thanks for reading, this is my first story and it's heavily based on BL of the Dead by Chihaya Hino

 

Waking up in dark alleyways was a habit that Bucky had hoped to drop a long time ago. This didn’t seem to have been his luck. He rose back into consciousness, thoughts slow to clear, and a cold seeping into his joints coating them in rust.  
Slowly moving his arms to gingerly prop himself up from his sprawled form face first on the ground, a revolting substance and sound came from under him. Beneath his palms, the earth was soaked in blood. It was cold and gelatinous as it gripped his skin, slithering between his fingers to pool if the creases.  
Lifting one hand Bucky felt down his torso to his wound, it was horrific. A huge gash traveling from under his rib cage to nearly his navel, he could see the pinks of his entrails as they slid from his stomach, pinched against the ground and his weight.  
Gingerly rolling over and sitting up, he could better see the organs and intestines hanging down. The disrupted light of the street lamp catching off the wet shine left by his blood. The wound was to clean, nothing fresh oozing, and no pain. If it weren’t for the horrific sight and smell, there wouldn’t be any reason to think he’d been hurt at all.  
The trail of blood leading up to Bucky sparked his memory. He was dead. He’d been on an assignment last night, one of many hits that he’d taken for the quick cash. The job had turned sideways and the red-headed target had taken him by surprise, he should’ve known the pay was too good.  
He remembered crawling, desperate to hide, to find somewhere dark. Seeing a shadowed corner of a dumpster as an irrational last hope. He’d wanted to live; he’d just wanted to see Tony again.  
Getting to his feet, Bucky raped his long black coat around his middle, hiding the gore while pressing it back in place. He knew he was no more than a corpse, slowing shuffling himself along. Heading to the warmth of his one remaining purpose. 

The door to Tony’s apartment was never locked, something that at one point had been a topic of contention between Bucky and his childhood friend. Too trusting and to giving like always, Tony never saw the need to shut people out. People like Bucky who only ever bring strife.  
Setting his head against the door ad gentle knocked. Bucky could hear Tony startle and hit his knee off the coffee table, making all his technology and mugs rattle. It wasn’t long before the door was moving inwards, and the un-amused face of his best friend filled the gap.  
“Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here?”  
Bucky didn’t bother with a response only leaned more heavily on the doorframe.  
Tony face soften as he made room for Bucky, “Fine, come on in”  
“You’ve got some nerve you know that. Dropping in with no warning in the middle of the night. You know that normal people do at this time? Sleep. Not that I was but that’s not the point!” Tony always ranted.  
His back was turned toward Bucky as he continued to bitch about him not called, leaving him worried sick. Final falling back on the couch, leaving Bucky to stand behind him gazing at his wavy tuff of hair, Tony fell silent.  
Bucky knew that he must stink; he hadn’t gone to take a shower or clean his clothes of his blood or guts before going to Tony but he didn’t say a word. Tony always accepted every part of bucky.   
“Hey Buck,” Tony said in a far more somber tone “you better not be getting yourself into danger again.”  
When he didn’t answer the silence caused Tony to antsy, twisting around on the couch to face the ever-silent man behind him.  
“I’m just worried you know” a light blush dusting his cheeks “we are old friends after all” he rested his face on the back of the couch.  
Looked closely at Bucky’s face he asked: “What do you need Buck?”  
Shuffling further into the room, not care about anything more than being closer to Tony, he said “You”  
“Hey! Watch with the shoes man, don’t track dirt and shit in here”  
“I love you.”  
Tony’s mouth snapped shut and he swiftly made a run for it.  
A small smile pulled at Buck’s lips. Tony always did this, hideaway when he was embarrassed or didn’t know how to react. A huff of laughter pushed out of his chest remembering how wide his eyes had gotten.  
Suddenly whatever force had been keeping Bucky standing gave out, his knees buckling under him, sending him clasping to the arm of the couch to stay up. Collapsing into the seat Bucky looked up at the ceiling, his arms limp, the feeling seeping out of them, becoming cold and inanimate. Was he dying again? Could a corpse like him still do that?  
His eyes become too heavy to hold, slipping down until only a sliver of light filtered in, his last glimpse was of Tony walking towards him.

Tony left his room having recovered from the shock of Bucky’s confession. A small lump of joy had built itself into his chest. He’d never given himself the chance to dream of a life with Bucky. But the possibility of being with Bucky, of trying to be more was thrilling.  
Sitting on the couch was Buck slumped over slightly with his eyes closed.  
“What? You’re asleep” He plopped himself down beside the sleeping man, taking a big breath.  
“You’re such a brat, coming here and messing me all up” resting his shoulder against the much broader and colder one of his friend. “Idiot, falling asleep on me”  
After a pause where Tony just left his friend in peace, he to give it one more shot “Wake up you bloody bastard!” still not a twitch.  
Settling back down he rested the back of his hand against his friends, blushing lightly he whispered, “You better wake up tomorrow.”


End file.
